Seeking Comfort
by Nithu
Summary: Alistair berates Nia for choosing to sacrifice Isolde in a Blood Magic ritual. Teagan offers consolation.


_ This was spawned by a prompt on the LJ dragone_age kink community. The prompt, coupled with with louvette's **hot hot,** Teagan ( http:(slash slash_)_louvette(dot)deviantart(do__t)com/art/Bann-Teagan-Guerrin-162661607 ) has been brewing for weeks. A bottle of wine later, this is the result! Muse music, on a continuous loop, for hours :_

_The Unforgiven : Metallica_

_(Don't fear) the Reaper : Blue Oyster Cult_

_Stairway to Heaven : Led Zeppelin_

_Orion : Metallica_

_Pariesienne Walkways : Thin Lizzy_

_Nothing Else Matters }_

_The Unforgiven II } Metallica_

_Welcome Home (Sanitarium) }_

* * *

Alistair was too angry to take note of the hurt in Nia's eyes, the tears that threatened to spill, as he raged at her. How could she sacrifice Isolde? Blood magic repulsed him. The Arl had given him a home, they had come here seeking his help and Nia had allowed a _blood mage_ to sacrifice the Arl's wife!

"I just don't know how you could _do_ it, how you could _make_ that decision. I owe the Arl _more_ than this" he yelled at her.

"I-I thought... "

"I don't want to know what you were thinking," he interrupted her. "You disgust me," he spat at her scornfully, then turned on his heel and left her standing alone in the courtyard.

Nia watched him go, filled with self-loathing. Bann Teagan had offered them all accommodation in the Castle but she couldn't accept his hospitality, not after what she'd done. In truth, she felt too ashamed to face him. He had looked to the Grey Wardens for help and she had killed his sister-in-law. She felt ashamed to the marrow of her bones. How could she face him? Or Alistair and the rest of their companions? Alistair had made his feelings plain. For a brief moment she considered running away, returning to her clan. She sighed, she was a Grey Warden; there was no going back. She would have to face the others eventually but for now she felt the need to hide away.

She headed out of the gate.

"You're leaving, Warden?" asked one of the guards.

"I'm going back to our camp, someone should be there," she told him quietly.

He looked at her doubtfully, then nodded. "Very well, Warden."

He waited until she had crossed the bridge and then sent for Bann Teagan. It was only moments until the Bann came out to the gate.

"Is there a problem, Tobias?" he enquired.

"I thought you should know that the Warden has returned to their camp, My Lord."

"Alistair? I thought I just saw him heading upstairs."

The guard shook his head. "No, the other one; the little Elven lass, My Lord," clarified Tobias.

Bann Teagan looked baffled. "Why would she go back to their camp?" he asked, frowning.

Tobias shuffled, muttering, "Well, I know I shouldn't have been listening but it was hard not to..."

"What happened, man? Spit it out," demanded Teagan sharply.

Tobias sighed. "The other Warden, Alistair? He had a right go at her. About what happened... "

Teagan groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Oh the bloody self-righteous fool." He exhaled slowly, then nodded at the guard. "Thank you for sending for me, it was the right thing to do. I'd better go and see if I can make this right. If anyone needs me, I'll be at the Wardens' camp."

Nia tore off her weapons as she ducked into her tent, tossing them to one side, then threw herself down on her bedroll and allowed the tears to flow. Knowing she was alone, she allowed herself to sob unreservedly. They must all hate her. _He_ hated her. She had thought they were becoming close. Friends, maybe more, and now he despised her. She had felt so lost and alone, the Shemlen world was completely alien to her, but Alistair had always been kind. He'd never laughed at her ignorance or been impatient with her questions. She had listened as he talked about Duncan and Alistair had listened as she'd told him of Tamlen and, together, they had mourned. Every time she'd felt awkward or stupid, he had cracked self-deprecating jokes and she had felt a little less foolish. _I disgust him,_ she thought miserably.

Teagan reached the camp site and looked around uncertainly; it appeared completely deserted. He had no idea which tent was hers. It was starting to get dark and he really didn't think she should stay out here on her own. He frowned, deciding to examine each tent. As he headed towards the first tent he noticed one off to the left, the tent flaps moving gently in the breeze. He changed direction and walked over to it. He heard the tell-tale hiccupping of someone who'd been weeping. He hesitated, then crouched down, calling softly, "Nia?"

A sniff, then a whisper. "Yes?"

"Nia, it's Teagan. Could I speak with you, please?" He saw the tent flap move and stood, stepping back. He watched as the small elf scooted out of the tent and stood before him, her head drooping. He was struck by just how small she was. In the Chantry she had seemed bigger somehow, standing tall and proud. Now she looked tired and defeated. Her dark hair was tousled and, even though she refused to look up at him, he could see her cheeks were still damp with tears.

He was shocked to realise just how young she was. When she and Alistair had arrived at Redcliffe with their companions he had been so grateful at their offer of help he hadn't even stopped to look at her properly, beyond noting absently that she was attractive. He tucked a finger under a chin and tugged her face up.

"Look at me please, Nia." Her face was pale, the exotic Dalish tattoos standing out against her pallor. She raised her large, pale grey eyes to meet his; he could see the uncertainty in them.

"I owe you an apology, Nia."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "What for?" she asked.

"For asking you to make the decision you did?"

Nia tried to turn her face away again. "I-I'm sorry," she whispered. "I should have...Alistair said... " she stopped, biting her lip.

Teagan swore inwardly as he saw the tears well up in her eyes again. _Maker! What stunning eyes!_

"That's not what I meant," he said hurriedly. "It wasn't the wrong decision," he told her gently. "There was no right decision... there never can be when you have to choose between a rock and a hard place." He smiled ruefully. "What I'm trying to apologise for is making you take that decision at all. It was remiss of me, you shouldn't have had to bear that burden."

A tear spilled and rolled slowly down her cheek. Unthinkingly, he brushed it away with his thumb. The gesture undid her. She lowered her eyes as her tears began to fall freely. "I thought you must hate me for... Al-Alistair said... " she stopped, gasping. Nia stood before Teagan, such a picture of abject misery, all he could think to do was comfort her. Stepping forward, he pulled her into a hug and held her close while she sobbed afresh against his chest.

Gradually her crying slowed and Teagan realised he was reluctant to let her go. He lowered his lips to her hair. "What did Alistair say?" he asked.

Muffled words floated up from the face pressed against him. "Blood magic... Isolde... owes the Arl... I am disgusting."

Teagan stiffened with anger. "Alistair has spent too long in the Chantry. I don't know what Eamon was thinking, sending him there in the first place."

He loosened his arms and tilted her face up. "You are not disgusting," he told her. He gazed down at her and felt his breath catch in his chest. "You are brave and strong and very, very... beautiful." Mesmerised by her large eyes, he lowered his head and brushed his lips against hers. He heard her gasp; felt her pull away slightly.

He dropped his arms and stepped back. "I'm sorry. That was unforgiveable of me."

She raised her fingers to her lips and gazed up at him wonderingly. "No," she whispered. "It was... " She stopped, blushing, and lowered her eyes.

Teagan cocked his head to one side, "It was... ?" he queried.

Nia looked up at him through her dark eyelashes. "It was nice," she told him shyly.

Teagan raised an eyebrow. "Nice? My Lady, you damn me with faint praise."

Nia shuffled self-consciously. "Well, it was very quick."

"I see," said Teagan, his lips twitching. He hesitated for a moment then asked, huskily, "Then would you object if I did it again, more slowly?"

Nia shook her head, stepping toward him and raising her face expectantly. Teagan leaned down and his mouth met hers. Gently at first, then with increasing urgency, their mouths explored each other. Teagan nipped softly at her lower lip; when her lips parted and she moaned into his mouth he pulled her to him fiercely and plunged his tongue into her. Nia's arms came up around his neck and she pressed herself against him. Teagan groaned as she arched against him.

Nia felt heady with desire. No-one had _ever_ kissed her like this before. There had been occasional shy kisses from blushing boys in her clan but they were nothing like the hunger she could feel in this man who clasped her to him so tightly. She felt a hand caress her behind and a throb of desire vibrated through her body. She whimpered, her sex damp and aching, and pressed her body against him.

Gasping, Teagan pulled back and held her away from him. "My Lady, we should stop," he told her, his voice thick with a desire that belied his words.

"It's just Nia," she told him sofly, "And I don't want you to stop."

"My La... Nia. You have been through a lot in the last two days. I don't want to take advantage of you," he told her reluctantly.

Nia shook her head firmly, then looked up at him. "Please," she beseeched him. "I don't want to feel disgusting."

Teagan sighed. "Don't do this just because of something stupid Alistair said."

She shook her head again. "I'm not," she protested. She blushed and lowered her head. Peering up at him, she whispered, "I want this. I want _you_, Teagan."

Teagan, looked down at her, into her eyes, dark with desire. His heart lurched in his chest as he cupped her face. "If you're sure... ?" he murmured.

Nia raised her eyes and regarded him steadily. "I'm sure."

Teagan nodded, then gestured at the tent. "Then I suggest we go somewhere a little more private."

Nia ducked into the tent, Teagan following. Once inside, she moved her weapons carefully out of the way and lit a small lantern which she hung from a hook near the tent flaps. Her hands started to move towards the ties when Teagan's hand caught her wrist.

"Leave them," he told her huskily, "I doubt we'll be disturbed."

Nia turned towards him, on her knees, suddenly shy.

Still holding her wrist, Teagan raised it to his lips, murmuring, "You are beautiful, Nia."

She gasped as he pulled her towards him and covered her mouth with his, devouring her hungrily. Teagan ran his hand through her hair, tugging it gently. Nia yielded to his kiss, returning it fervently. Desire flared in the pit of her belly as his one hand roamed through her hair and the other down her back. His hands roved over her, then he stopped, looking a little flustered. "I'm unfamiliar with this armour, how does it come off?" he growled.

Nia pulled back, blushing and, with trembling fingers, she unbuckled the small leather pauldrons and tossed them to one side. Teagan watched her hungrily. Lowering her eyes coyly, she fumbled with the laces on her small chest piece, tugging them loose. She started to pull it off, when impatient hands joined hers, pulling it off. Teagan gasped in surprise; she was naked under the chest piece. "I was expecting a breast band," he told her with a startled laugh. She flushed and resisted the temptation to cover herself as his eyes swept over her breasts. She picked up the chest piece and showed him the soft, detachable lining. "Felt, made from Halla hair," she told him.

Teagan reached for her again, pulling her close. He wanted to stare at those gorgeous breasts, unexpectedly full and tipped with generous, dark nipples. His fingers brushed against her face, tracing the pattern of the tattoo there. "I think there is much we could learn from the Dalish," he told her as he reclaimed her mouth again. Her arms reached up around his neck and she pressed against him as his tongue plundered her mouth. Teagan groaned as he felt soft breasts pressing against his chest through the fine fabric of his shirt.

Releasing her briefly, he ripped his shirt off and tossed it aside. He heard a soft "Oh!" and looked down. Nia was gazing at his chest, her eyes wide with surprise.

She reached out a tentative hand and brushed her fingers over the soft hair that covered his chest, tapering to a dark line that ran down his belly. "I've never seen... I didn't know... "

Teagan hissed as her fingers grazed over his torso. His lips twitched in a small smile.

Nia glanced up and caught his look, blushing. "You must think me very... ignorant." She shrugged sheepishly. "Elven men don't have much hair on their bodies." She paused and raised her hand hesitantly to his chin, sweeping her fingers over the closely trimmed beard he wore. Teagan looked at her quizzically and she smiled delightedly. "I like it," she told him simply.

He grinned at her, then allowed his eyes to drop to her breasts. He raised a hand and cupped a breast, savouring the weight of it in his hand. He squeezed gently and was rewarded with a gasp. He rolled the nipple between his thumb and forefinger and felt her stiffen. He sat back on his heels and pulled her onto his lap, dipping his head to nuzzle her other breast. He groaned as he felt her writhe in pleasure against his erection. His tongue laved over her nipple, then he drew it into his mouth and suckled. Nia whimpered and arched her back, thrusting her breasts forward. He dropped his hands to her waist, exploring until her found the buckle of her leather skirt. He undid it, then dropped his hands to her thighs and slowly ran his hands upwards. As he reached the top of her thighs and turned his hands inwards, he could feel the heat coming off her in waves. His hand brushed against her small clothes at the apex of her thighs, he felt her stiffen, then relax against him.

He lifted his head reluctantly from her breast. "I think we're both wearing too many clothes," he suggested hoarsely, lifting her off him. Nia nodded at him mutely, her eyes big and round. Teagan shifted so that he was sitting and started to remove his boots, watching her out of the corner of her eye. Hesitantly Nia wriggled out of her skirt, then swiftly pulled off her small clothes. She sat back on her heels, her hands folded in her lap, blushing. In contrast, Teagan, once free of his boots, eagerly stripped off the rest of his clothes. He heard her gasp and looked up to see her eyes riveted on his erect penis, her eyes wide with shock and apprehension.

"Of course, you've never lain with a human before?" he asked.

Nia lowered her eyes. "I've never lain with anyone before," she confessed in a small voice.

Teagan was appalled. "Maker's breath, Nia!" He ground his teeth in frustration as she cringed. More gently, he continued, "I'm sorry. I didn't realise." Teagan reached for his discarded clothes, "I should go."

"No!" Nia's cry startled him, as did her strong hand closing over his wrist. He stared at her, torn between desire and honour. She flushed under his scrutiny. "I'm sorry, I didn't intend to deceive you." She shrugged. "It never occurred to me say anything." She relaxed her grip on his wrist. "I don't want you to go," she admitted, her voice almost inaudible.

"Are you sure, Nia?" Teagan, gazed at her searchingly, seeking reassurance that this was truly what she wanted.

Nia met his gaze unflinchingly, nodding. "Yes, Teagan. I never felt more sure of anything."

He smiled at her. "Then I am honoured to be the first." He reclined on the bedroll and opened his arms to her.

Shyly, Nia crawled forwards and lay next to Teagan, nestling her head against his shoulder.

Teagan drew her against him, murmuring, "Let us start again, my beautiful Nia." Slowly he explored her, with his mouth and hands. He had never lain with a virgin before and wanted to make this a wonderful experience for her. He lavished attention on her, carefully noting each gasp. He suckled and caressed her breasts until he felt her hips convulse, then lowered a hand to her knee and gently explored her thigh, gradually questing higher and higher.

His thumb grazed against her sex, eliciting a whimper. With gentle fingers, he explored her soft, moist folds, parting her lips. Carefully, Teagan inserted a finger whilst his thumb circled the small nub at the top of her sex. He felt her stiffen, then relax. He was unable to suppress a moan of desire as hot, wet flesh enclosed his finger. He wanted to be inside her so badly. Quashing his own needs, he concentrated on Nia. He felt her thrusting against his hand and inserted another finger, while covering a breast with his mouth.

Teagan's fingers moved, crooking forwards and Nia cried out. He felt her start to tremble and was relentless, his fingers thrusting, his thumb circling and stroking, his mouth suckling. Under his ministrations Nia bucked violently. As her orgasm engulfed her, she let out a high, keening moan and Teagan felt her convulse around his fingers. He felt her relax and shifted his position, laying between her legs. His erection ached, almost unbearably, as he positioned himself to take her. As she sank back against the bedroll he entered her with one swift thrust. She cried out, stiffening, and tried to pull away. It took all his self-control to hold himself still. He cupped her face in his hand, "Shhhh," he crooned, "tell me when you are ready."

* * *

Alistair paced his room. Once inside, his fury had abated swiftly. As he calmed down, he started to feel guilty. He had refused to lead, begging Nia to take that responsibility, much to Morrigan's obvious disgust. Nia had never once derided him for it, instead she had quietly taken on the role he dreaded, never once complaining. He realised now that she had been put in an impossible position and forced to make a truly horrendous decision. Instead of offering her his support, he had berated her. He recalled her face as she had come out into the main courtyard. He didn't know what she, Teagan and Morrigan had witnessed but her face had been ashen. He had _never_ seen her look like that, even after Ostagar.

He sat on the bed, head in his hands. What she had needed, at least, was a friend. What she had got was him, raging at her, scorning her decision; scorning _her_. He groaned. _You disgust me._ How could he have said that to her? Nothing was further from the truth. She filled him with wonder. When he'd found out that their newest recruit was a Dalish elf, he had expected suspicion and hostility. Instead he'd been greeted with an insatiable curiosity and, incredibly, trust. Once her joining was over, Nia has embraced her new identity as a Warden and she trusted him as a fellow Warden.

Alistair had begun to realise that his feelings for Nia were more than friendship. He found himself watching her, appreciating the curves displayed by her Dalish armour. Desperate to rid himself of his Chantry-taught naiveté, he had started to make the odd risqué joke and been encouraged when she had laughed, not rebuffed the gauche _Shem_. He had started to dare to hope... And now, had he destroyed all that with one childish temper tantrum? He needed to put this right.

In one swift movement, he was off the bed, rooting around in his pack for the small box he kept there. His hand closed around the box and drew it out. He opened it, almost reverently, and sighed with relief as he viewed the contents. A single red rose, as perfect and fresh as the day he'd picked it in Lothering so many weeks ago. He knew not what enchantment kept it so fresh, but he knew what he intended to do with it; he intended it to present it to the only other object of beauty he had encountered in this whole damn nightmare. Alistair wanted to grovel at the feet of the woman he loved; to offer his love. He could only hope that she would forgive him his childish outburst.

He extracted the rose carefully and wrapped it in a clean hankie, slipping it inside his breastplate. Hurrying, before his courage could fail him, he scoured the castle for Nia. She was nowhere to be found. He banged on doors, awoke tired companions; no-one knew where she was. He descended to the Great Hall and found it deserted. Swiftly, he headed outside and scanned the courtyard; it was deserted. His eyes searched the secluded corner where he had harangued his love and he flushed with shame. He crossed the courtyard and approached the guards at the gate.

"I'm looking for Nia, the other Warden."

One of the guards gave him a scornful look. "She said she was headed back to your camp. Over an hour ago."

"Thank you," said Alistair, nodding at the man. He rushed across the bridge, not hearing the words the guard tossed after him.

"Bann Teagan went to see..."

Alistair reached the camp and hesitated. His courage almost failed him. He reached into his breastplate and drew out the rose. He started rehearsing what he might say, framing his apology. Ahead, he saw a tent lit up with a dim glow. She was here. Alone. A pang of remorse washed over him. Gathering up his courage he approached Nia's tent and then he froze. A cry, Nia's voice, rent the night air. For a split second, he thought it was a cry of pain, then he looked at her tent. Clearly silhouetted, the shape of two bodies, one on top of the other. Both bodies still for what seemed an interminable length of time, then they started to move.

Teagan felt Nia start to relax under him, then she started to rock, slowly. He arched his back, reaching his head down to kiss her deeply. Bearing his weight on his elbows, he started to thrust, hesitantly at first. As she opened up around him, he thrust deeper, groaning at the tightness that gripped him. He lowered a hand, seeking out the nub, the bundle of nerves, that he knew would pleasure her. Underneath him, Nia gasped. She braced her hands against his chest, revelling in the sensation of the soft hair that covered it. Her fingers sought out his nipples through the fuzz. She was consumed, the sensation of being _filled_ finally sating the hunger that had plagued her while she and Alistair had tentatively flirted and danced around each other. She disgusted Alistair now, but this man; _this man_ desired her and was prepared to take her. Nia shuddered as _this man_ plunged into her, drew back and plunged into her again_. This man_ wanted her, hungered for her. She could feel him holding back; awaiting her pleasure. She surrendered to him, yielded to his need. This man. _Teagan_. She shuddered as another orgasm washed over her, swept away by him, driving into her; by his fingers, tormenting her sex.

"Tea-Teagan!" He heard her voice, heady and exultant, breathe his name and felt her clench tightly around him.

"Nia!" he groaned as she convulsed around him. He lost the last of his reserve and ground into her, filling her with his seed as he clasped her to him.

Outside the tent, Alistair's sob was covered by the sounds of ecstasy from within. _Too late! Too little, too late! Fool!_ Alistair crumpled the rose between his fingers, the petals crushed. He tossed them aside and turned back towards the castle. He noticed the startled glance of the guards as he swept past them, but never realised it was because of the tears that ran down his face.


End file.
